Kawarimi
by asteriskjam
Summary: They were long, slow nights and she was dying underneath the mask. [SasuSaku] [onesided SasuKarin] [oneshot]


**Kawarimi  
By: asteriskjam**

**A/N: -blush, blush, blush, _blush_- There's uh, nothing really explicit here, but uh, y'know.  
...So, I've recently gotten together with my first boyfriend. Blame the hormones.**

xxx

_He's mine. _

xxx

She had him.

Here, breathing roughly, in her arms, against her skin, between her thighs.

Karin exhaled a satisfied breath as she lay in bed waiting for the boy above her, the man she'd been wanting for so long (for too long), to make the first decisive move.

He growled against her neck, nipping at the ivory flesh there till it was an angry red, and she moaned softly with the deft ministrations of his tongue and teeth. He ground against her, pulsing, aching, tearing at crimson garments till she was bare and sweating and flush before his eyes.

He teased, which she found amusingly uncharacteristic. He would touch tickle spots, explore forbidden caverns, prod at what he knew were pleasure points.

When he took her passed a high she'd never before felt, bodies pressed, hearts palpitating, fingers moving and nails biting everywhere, he'd prepare himself.

And they'd move together.

First a gentle rocking that passion and adrenaline would help escalate into something harsher, rougher, faster.

And she'd lose herself in him.

The damp ebony bangs that worked into spikes at the back. The structured jaw, the shapely nose, and the pale skin taut with youth. A lean, smooth body and dark eyes she swore were voids that took her every time she so happened to glance his way.

One of the key factors in lovesickness, she supposed, sighing as his eager hand roved silk skin.

She even felt inanely honored that he'd let her be in such close proximity.

After all, this was Uchiha Sasuke. The gorgeous, indifferent, Avenger-boy she'd come to worship.

And the moment, that moment, _this_ moment when the pace was overwhelming and her muscles were contracting and she was raggedly huffing breath and puffing his name all at the same time and he was finally, finally ascending into that point of no return; that moment was theirs alone.

It was when he responded to her call that the dream would shatter.

And the notion that he was here because he cared would fade into something unfamiliarly painful.

Karin was in love.

She wasn't an idiot.

She could remember it vividly. That cool March afternoon, crisp with the arrival of Spring. She'd dreamily claimed that love was in the air and then had skipped over to her beloved Sasuke, latching greedily onto his arm (and staunchly ignoring Suigetsu's overly-rude scoff).

'Sasuke, it's spring! This is the perfect season to substantiate our love, ne?' She'd meant it jokingly of course what with Sasuke being Sasuke (and Sasuke, meaning antisocial tendencies).

He sent her a deadpan glance, gaze hovering over her form. And all of a sudden, something like twilight flickered behind his eyes. Gingerly, fingers reached out and she stood frozen as he plucked a cherry blossom from her hair. Looking determinedly into her surprised orbs, he nodded.

_Fine_, his gaze resonated as he turned to walk away.

When the initial shock had deteriorated, all remaining was a sensation that made her want to burst in elation and that left her ridiculously giddy for the next several days.

Though it wasn't any rendition of a love proclamation, his quiet admittance must have meant that her persistence coupled with her general attractiveness had finally gotten to him.

She'd thought that maybe he was finally giving her a chance.

Which was probably why her heart ached as it did now.

Why hadn't she seen it the first time?

He'd snuck into her room as stealthily as ever; surprising even her when he so suddenly whispered her name in the night. She made to hug him, only to be withheld. Before any type of foreplay could begin, he calmly admitted to having certain 'preferences'. Being hopelessly enamored with the man, she immediately promised that his wish was her command.

When she first transformed, she thought that maybe he was just generally drawn to the personification of Spring. People had their kinks.

Cropped, bubble-gum strands (pink _everywhere_, he ordered). The brightest teal eyes he'd ever seen (she didn't quite know just what shade was his 'brightest', but her second try had been deemed satisfactory). A simple red dress with a mysterious white circle in the skirt. (perhaps, she tried to reason, red simply suited this character he wanted her to portray).

Anything for her Sasuke.

Even when he first breathed that word in the midst of climax, she again brushed it off as his fantasy with Spring.

After they finished, the Uchiha took a minute to calm his breaths before jumping out of bed to hurriedly dress himself. She pouted at the lack of after-sex pillow talk and traditional cuddling, but it was only natural, she assumed, that he'd be much too uncomfortable to trek into such unfamiliar territory yet.

At least, she remembered, smiling, he had turned to her and mumbled a short "thank you" before exiting.

It was the second time that aroused suspicion.

There had been no previous mention of another similar escapade. One random night, he'd simply knocked on her door, feeling needy. And as expected, she had accepted him with open arms.

Again, he asked for her to transform into that Spring persona.

"Again, Sasuke?" she teased, ignorantly, "What is it with you and this season, Mr. Avenger-kun?" She lightly pulled at the collar of his shirt in invitation, "Why don't you try me au natural--?"

Quickly, he grabbed the wrist that had been tugging at him Voice hard, he whispered, "Please."

Karin only nodded, brows knitting with an emotion she couldn't identify.

It was August when he'd come to her the third time.

And just as prior, he needed his Spring.

She obeyed with a fixed smile that didn't reach her eyes.

In the throes of passion, he grunted, rather _corrected_ in her ear, "-kun. Use the suffix." And as he reached his peak, calling out 'cherry blossom', she finally concluded that there was another.

That this 'Sakura' was not at all a figment of imagination but a real person, a _woman_ who held such power over him that even in her absence he'd go so far as to have another alter their appearance in her likeness.

Why else would Sasuke, the impatient, broody mess of a boy, have her transform each and every time? It wasn't a simple matter of fulfilling his desires nor was it a culmination of what she thought had been their budding relationship. The girl's mere manifestation provided something for the Uchiha that Karin's entire presence couldn't hope to offer.

Why else would Sasuke, the murderous traitor of his own village, become so demonstrative in his mannerisms? He would always be on top, elbows propped so as not to crush her. He would always commence with some form of kissing and touching because he wanted her nice and wet and ready each and every time. He would always move slow in the beginning because he feared that too sudden shifts would break her.

With this person Sasuke was unendingly careful.

This young woman with cotton candy hair and emerald eyes. With the coy smile and the hair layers and the crimson dress.

The night she'd finally figured it all out, she promptly cried herself to sleep. Because with the realization that this 'Sakura' girl was the only one the Uchiha would ever want, came the dreaded truth: Sasuke would _never _look at her with the same adoration. She had only been an available, a willing, a warm body used to substantiate his fantasies about a woman she could never be.

She was a substitu—no, wait, she barely even constituted a substitute because when, in the middle of the night, he opened hazed eyes, he only saw her. Her face that met with numbers of his soft caresses, her body that had endured countless midnights. Her eyes, green and dark with the passion of the persona beneath the transformation. Her carnation locks, in disarray as her head shook between the zones of pleasure and pain. And her mouth, full and red and the only one meant for his kisses.

His _love_.

As Karin turned back to the standard jet black hair and the boring brown eyes, she sat up in bed, watching idly as Sasuke picked up his clothes in that same unnatural rush. And she wondered, brows furrowing, about why she allowed him to treat her this way.

She'd always known herself to be strong-willed and independent. So why did she always let him take advantage of her? Use her body when he needed to, and then dispose of her like some unfeeling rag doll? Similarly demeaning questions would roll around in her brain for hours after he'd dash out.

And she always berated herself, even when her subconscious knew the answer.

She was so hopelessly in love that she'd turn into whatever woman if it meant sharing his body heat during those lonely nights and receiving those sincere thank yous that she knew were meant for her and no one else.

It didn't matter how often or how long or how much she'd hate herself the next morning. Because as long as Sasuke kept coming, deepdown she knew that she'd keep on taking him.

At the very least, Karin thought sardonically, laying back into her pillows, 'Sakura' was an anonymous entity the likes of whom she'd never before encountered.

The obscurity made it easier to pretend.

xxx

_I'm his. _

xxx

**A/N: Uh. Ta-dah?**


End file.
